But then, thankfulness layered my horror. Thankful that I would die before my offspring—I wouldn’t have to see her wither and beg for help I couldn’t give.
Fox made me assess every inch of my life and I hated him for it. I didn’t think I’d ever truly get over what he’d done, but at the same time, he was the most real and unapologetic man I’d ever met.
Fox never told me where he went on the night he took me, but the bruises around his eye and cheek bone had faded to a muddy yellow. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to his joints clicking or his back creaking whenever he moved after sitting for a period of time. He sounded like an old tin solider badly in need of some oil.
At five p.m. every night, I would leave Fox and catch a taxi from his home to mine. He’d given me the one hundred thousand cash he promised, and I was able to afford another trial inhaler for Clara. He tried to drive me, but I flat-out refused. While I admitted I had a fondness for him, an insatiable need to fix him, and a craving for him physically, I was still afraid of what he was capable of. He was an undetonated hand-grenade, and I had no intention of letting him near Clara. He had his secrets, and I had mine. That was the way it had to be.
Clara would launch her warm, squirmy body into my arms and we’d eat together, watch television, do her homework, then giggle and talk in the dark until she fell asleep. I hoarded those moments like gold dust, locking each memory into a safe inside my mind, knowing each recollection would torture me when she was gone.
Every morning, I woke with the hope that doctors had diagnosed wrong. Clara seemed too healthy and vibrant—her hair glossy, eyes bright and mind inquisitive.
At ten a.m. every day I would return to Fox and climb into his bed. He’d wake, smile, then go back to sleep, leaving me to sunbathe in bright sunshine, keeping vigil until midday when he woke.
For a week, I balanced my two lives perfectly; I began to think it could work.
But of course, life liked to prove me wrong.
“Holy crap, you scared me,” I said, clutching the folders tighter against my chest. It was early afternoon, and I’d been working on ordering more supplies for Obsidian’s fighters. Fox had disappeared an hour ago, saying he’d be back.
I didn’t expect him to be silent and lurking against the black walls of his office—completely unnoticeable until he moved.
His lips twitched but he didn’t fully smile. He never did. Just once I’d like to see him let go and be happy.
If he knew how to, of course.
“Sorry. I was waiting for you.” He moved forward and took the heavy files from me, placing them on his desk. I’d been down on the fighting floor with Oscar taking note of the dwindling supplies that we needed.
He’d asked for more hookers, and I slapped him playfully. As much as I didn’t want to admit—I liked Oscar. He’d called me a whore and grabbed my boob, but beneath the brash exterior lurked a fun-some surfer whose blue eyes caused one or two wings of attraction in my stomach.
He was so different to Fox. Sun to dark. Happy to brooding. But I wouldn’t stray—not that I had any relationship obligations to Fox apart from a money transaction—but my feelings had grown from lust to something deeper.
I no longer thought about our time together just for a month. I would stay until Fox smiled with his soul. I would stay until he could make love to me like I wanted him to.
And if he hurts you again?
I’d leave and never look back. I had feelings for him but I didn’t have a death wish.
“I want to go outside. I need some sunlight,” Fox said, spinning back from placing the paperwork on the desk. “Come with me?”
Such a simple request. A walk around his property in the sun.
I smiled. “Are you asking me on a date?” Tapping a finger against my lips, I said, “Could this be seen as an improvement to the kidnap by knife routine?”
His hand suddenly captured my elbow, pulling me forward. He kept a small buffer of space between us, but his breathing altered from relaxed to shallow. “Do you know why I’ve avoided you for a week? Why I haven’t begged for your mouth, or dragged you into my bed?” His silver eyes scorched me with acres of pent-up lust.
I bit my lip as a wave of desire spread like wildfire. My core grew liquid at the memories of sucking him: his salty dark taste, the way he came apart in my hands. I liked the power I had over him. I loved bringing him to a body shuddering cl**ax. But for the past week, I walked on knife blades. My body wanted Fox every second of every day and not being able to touch him—to let him know I wanted him—had been torture.
“Why?” I murmured, hypnotised by his bottom lip.
“Because I want to give you what you gave me. I want to make you come so f**king hard that you fall into my arms. I want to be able to catch you and tell you everything you want to know.”
I swayed forward. “Do it then.” My heart raced like a rabbit.
His head dropped, bringing his lips temptingly close to mine. “I would if I could. But I don’t have the strength. I’m a walking battleground between my past and the future I want. And I’m so f**king scared of hurting you again.” His fingers tightened around my elbows. “I just want to be quiet inside. I want normal thoughts and the luxury of just f**king hugging you.”
Fox was unlike any man I knew. I couldn’t hate him. Not with his gigantic heart and the sweetness lurking in his violence. But I did hate that he spoke the truth. It wasn’t a game he played. He honestly couldn’t control whatever lived inside him, and my life would be forfeited if he lost control.
Our eyes locked, green to grey. I stood on tip-toes to kiss him.
He froze as my lips moved on his, and I waited to see if he would push me away. I wasn’t stupid. After what happened before, I now carried a knife in my hair and in my back pocket. I fully intended to deliver my threat if Fox ever overpowered me again and made me choose who lived or died.
His mouth opened beneath mine; he moaned low and deep as my tongue entered and swept over his bottom lip.
My arms wanted nothing more than to wrap him in an embrace and crush myself against him. I wanted friction between us. I wanted his hands on every inch of me.
His head tilted to deepen the kiss, following my lead with his tongue. It was the contradiction that made me hot for him. A dominate male through and through, but beneath that lived a man who only wanted approval. A man who had never had affection or love or a simple kiss.
And that broke my f**king heart.
He pulled away, looking deep into my eyes. “Walk with me?”